The Red Acorn [102]
nothin', on'y stay in the house ez close ez ye kin, an' wait tell the chance comes ter use ye. Hit may be ter-morrer, an' hit mayn't be fur some days. These army moves are mouty unsartin. Aunt Debby 'll take keer on ye, an' ye 'll not be in a mite o' danger."
"But we'll see you frequently?"
"Ez offen ez I kin arrange hit. I'm actin' ez orderly an' messenger 'bout headquarters, but I'll come ter ye whenever I kin git a chance, an' keep ye posted."
This was Friday night. All day Saturday, as long as the light lasted, Rachel stood at the window and watched with sinking heart the steady inflow of the Rebels from the north. That night she and Aunt Debby waited till midnight for Fortner, but he did not come. All day Sunday she stood at her post, and watched the unabated pouring-in on the Nashville pike. Fortner did not come that night. She was downcast, but no shade disturbed the serenity of Aunt Debby's sweet hymning. So it was again on Monday and Tuesday. The continually-swarming multitudes weighed down her spirits like a millstone. She seemed to be encompassed by millions of armed enemies. They appeared more plentiful than the trees, or the rocks, or the leaves even. They filled the streets of the little town until it seemed impossible for another one to find standing room. Their cavalry blackened the faces of the long ranges of hills. Their artillery and wagons streamed along the roads in a never-ending train. Their camp-fires lighted up the country at night for miles, in all directions.
Just at dusk Tuesday night Fortner came in, and was warmly welcomed.
"There are such countless hosts of the Rebels," Rachel said to him after the first greetings were over, "that I quite despair of our men being able to do anything with them. It seems impossible that there can be gathered together anywhere else in the world as many men as they have."
"I don't wonder ye think so, but ef ye'd been whar I wuz to-day ye'd think thet all the world wuz marchin' round in blue uniforms. Over heah hit seems ez ef all the cedars on the hills hed suddintly turned inter Rebel soldiers. Three miles from heah the blue-coats are swarmin' thicker'n bees in a field o' buckwheat."
"Three miles from here! Is our army within three miles of here?"
"Hit sartinly is, an' the Lord-awfullest crowd o' men an' guns an' hosses thet ever tromped down the grass o' this ere airth. Why, hit jest dazed my eyes ter look at 'em. Come ter this other winder. D' ye see thet furtherest line o' campfires, 'way on yander hill? Well, them's Union. Ef ye could see far enuf ye'd see they're 'bout five miles long, an' they look purtier'n the stars in heaven."
"But if they are so close the battle will begin immediately, will it not?"
"Hit ain't likely ter be put off very long, but thar's no tellin' what'll happen in war, or when."
"When is my time to come?"
"Thet's what I've come furt ter tell ye. Ef we're agwine ter be of sarvice ter the Guv'MENT, we must do hit to-night, fur most likely the battle'll begin in the mornin'. Hit's not jest the way I intended ter make use of ye, but hit can't be helped now. I hev information thet must reach Gineral Rosencrans afore daybreak. The vict'ry may depend on hit. Ter make sure all on us must start with hit, fur gittin' through the lines is now mouty dangersome, an' somebody--mebbe several--is bound to git cotcht, mebbe wuss. The men I expected ter help me are all gone. I hain't nobody now but ye an Aunt Debby. D'ye dar try an' make yer way through the lines to-night?"
Rachel thought a minute upon the dreadful possibilities of the venture, and then replied firmly:
"Yes I dare. I will try anything that the rest of you will attempt."
"Good. I knowed ye'd talk thet-a-way. Now we must waste no time in gittin' started, fur God on'y knows what diffikilties we'll meet on the way, an' Rosencrans can't hev the information enny too soon. Ev'ry minute hit's kep' away from him'll cost many vallerable lives--mebbe help defeat the army."
"Tell me quickly, then, what I must do, that I
"But we'll see you frequently?"
"Ez offen ez I kin arrange hit. I'm actin' ez orderly an' messenger 'bout headquarters, but I'll come ter ye whenever I kin git a chance, an' keep ye posted."
This was Friday night. All day Saturday, as long as the light lasted, Rachel stood at the window and watched with sinking heart the steady inflow of the Rebels from the north. That night she and Aunt Debby waited till midnight for Fortner, but he did not come. All day Sunday she stood at her post, and watched the unabated pouring-in on the Nashville pike. Fortner did not come that night. She was downcast, but no shade disturbed the serenity of Aunt Debby's sweet hymning. So it was again on Monday and Tuesday. The continually-swarming multitudes weighed down her spirits like a millstone. She seemed to be encompassed by millions of armed enemies. They appeared more plentiful than the trees, or the rocks, or the leaves even. They filled the streets of the little town until it seemed impossible for another one to find standing room. Their cavalry blackened the faces of the long ranges of hills. Their artillery and wagons streamed along the roads in a never-ending train. Their camp-fires lighted up the country at night for miles, in all directions.
Just at dusk Tuesday night Fortner came in, and was warmly welcomed.
"There are such countless hosts of the Rebels," Rachel said to him after the first greetings were over, "that I quite despair of our men being able to do anything with them. It seems impossible that there can be gathered together anywhere else in the world as many men as they have."
"I don't wonder ye think so, but ef ye'd been whar I wuz to-day ye'd think thet all the world wuz marchin' round in blue uniforms. Over heah hit seems ez ef all the cedars on the hills hed suddintly turned inter Rebel soldiers. Three miles from heah the blue-coats are swarmin' thicker'n bees in a field o' buckwheat."
"Three miles from here! Is our army within three miles of here?"
"Hit sartinly is, an' the Lord-awfullest crowd o' men an' guns an' hosses thet ever tromped down the grass o' this ere airth. Why, hit jest dazed my eyes ter look at 'em. Come ter this other winder. D' ye see thet furtherest line o' campfires, 'way on yander hill? Well, them's Union. Ef ye could see far enuf ye'd see they're 'bout five miles long, an' they look purtier'n the stars in heaven."
"But if they are so close the battle will begin immediately, will it not?"
"Hit ain't likely ter be put off very long, but thar's no tellin' what'll happen in war, or when."
"When is my time to come?"
"Thet's what I've come furt ter tell ye. Ef we're agwine ter be of sarvice ter the Guv'MENT, we must do hit to-night, fur most likely the battle'll begin in the mornin'. Hit's not jest the way I intended ter make use of ye, but hit can't be helped now. I hev information thet must reach Gineral Rosencrans afore daybreak. The vict'ry may depend on hit. Ter make sure all on us must start with hit, fur gittin' through the lines is now mouty dangersome, an' somebody--mebbe several--is bound to git cotcht, mebbe wuss. The men I expected ter help me are all gone. I hain't nobody now but ye an Aunt Debby. D'ye dar try an' make yer way through the lines to-night?"
Rachel thought a minute upon the dreadful possibilities of the venture, and then replied firmly:
"Yes I dare. I will try anything that the rest of you will attempt."
"Good. I knowed ye'd talk thet-a-way. Now we must waste no time in gittin' started, fur God on'y knows what diffikilties we'll meet on the way, an' Rosencrans can't hev the information enny too soon. Ev'ry minute hit's kep' away from him'll cost many vallerable lives--mebbe help defeat the army."
"Tell me quickly, then, what I must do, that I